


Stress Leave

by heavenbarnes



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Nipple Licking, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:47:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22768783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavenbarnes/pseuds/heavenbarnes
Summary: You're sent away to recover, Bucky is a great help with that
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Kudos: 35





	Stress Leave

**Author's Note:**

> it's more descriptive writing than it is smut, but please enjoy

You awoke with the natural sunlight. You couldn’t see it, thanks to the silk mask covering your eyes. You could feel it on your uncovered skin. It danced across your arms and lightly brushed your face, warming more than just your skin. It warmed your soul. 

You took the mask off your eyes and lay it next to you on the white comforter. You rolled your body and pulled your hands up close to your face. Your head stayed plush against the mountain of pillows behind you. You let your eyes drift out the large window and over the buildings in front of you.

You could hear the bustle of the city beneath you. It was different to the city you lived in. That city was cold noise, if that made sense? Cold in the way that everybody was doing their own thing, rushing about, thinking that their own issues were the only issues going on in the world today. Not thinking of those around them. It was the sound of wheels in puddles, splashing the person on a bike. It was swearing and fist shaking and “hey, I’m walking here!”

This noise was a warm noise. For one, the air was warm. But the noise traveled and circled your eyes and made you feel nice. It was strangers smiling at strangers, asking them how they were. It was a horn honking, not to say “get out the way!” but to say “hey, I haven’t seen you in a while!” It was the tiny noises of people throwing change into a buskers hat. It was a baker giving away a loaf of bread simply because he’d made extra that day.

You closed your eyes and let the world below you fill your senses. You tried not to think of the fact you had to leave this place at some point. Why let that ruin the experience? You preferred to just immerse yourself in it whilst you had the chance. 

You instinctively reached to your nightstand to find your phone, before remembering you wouldn’t find it there. You wouldn’t find it anywhere. Part of the deal was that you were to leave it at home. If anyone needed to contact you, they contact SHIELD and they can get one of the support team to deliver the message. You needed to contact somebody? Well you could find a payphone, or better yet? Send them a letter.

You did that often, that came with the therapy. You wrote letters to everybody. You wrote most of them to Mr. Peter Parker. He wrote you back as well. You included little Polaroid photos of the city, and your jaunts around it. He’d get you to tell him about the most mundane parts of your day. He said they were his favorite, the way you could take a trip to the market and make it into a story you never want to put down. 

You also sent them to Sam, you missed his humor so when you got letters back you had to prepare yourself for a splitting of your sides. You wrote to Wanda, you missed how you two could talk about anything. You wrote to Steve, thanked him for what he has done for you and asked him to keep your plants watered in your room. 

You also took up walking. Not like hiking, just little strolls around the city. Sometimes you’d find yourself walking for hours, not noticing. As soon as your headphones went over your ears and you took in the sights around you, you were in another world.

That is what this place did for you. You didn’t have to worry about a mission, an enemy, protecting anybody or doing anything right. Nobody knew you here, nobody expected anything from you. There was a spattering of plain clothes SHIELD agents around the place at any one time, just in case something went wrong. Nothing ever went wrong.

You would take your bag everywhere with you everyday. It was just a brown leather tote. The handles had worn a bit and the lining had a small tear, but it was like your safety net. In it was always a packet of spearmint gum, one hair tie, one pen or pencil, one pair of sunglasses, a pair of earbuds in case you got tired of the over ear headphones, a snack of some sort, a photo of you and Peter, and your notebook.

You craved having your notebook on you at all times. You drew your surroundings often, not very good drawings but that didn’t matter. You’d also write down just about everything. You loved to observe, people walking buy, animals doing their best. You had a note for just about every happening in this city.

“Today I saw the most incredible thing…” was usually how they all started. From reading it, you’d think you thought everything you saw was incredible. That is probably because you did. Being in a sleepy city, miles and miles away from any troubles was incredible. Most people could only dream of what you had, and you only had to make a few small sacrifices to get there.

Yes that included things like giving up your phone, giving up the internet, but those things were no-brainers. It was actually doing you the world of good to have a break away from caring what other people thought of you. Having a break away from other people’s expectations of you. You could sit on the balcony and stare into a pot-plant for two hours and nobody would care. Bliss.

A slightly larger sacrifice was the trauma. You wouldn’t go into it because you didn’t want to put a damper on the situation around you. Your traumas and your past wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, but lately they’d been making it hard to live. SHIELD put you on mandatory stress leave. You couldn’t forget what had happened and nobody was asking you to, but it didn’t have to be the only thing on your mind anymore. 

You finally arose from your blankets, reluctantly dragging your legs from the warm confines and stretching them out. You wiggled your toes, getting them used to the cooler air. Not cold, just not as warm as your bed sheets. The wooden floors creaked under your feet as you made your way to the balcony. The breeze picked up a strand of your hair and fluttered it away from your face.

You looked over the city, your city. You hadn’t been here long, others certainly had some time on you but it felt your own. It belonged to you just as much as it belonged to them, simply due to how it made you feel. The way it had released you from a place you had locked yourself inside of, without even realizing.

You put your hands on the wrought iron fence in front of you. You felt the breeze drift through your thin t-shirt, not enough to chill you. You could smell the cafe that was just tucked away on your right. They knew your order and your routine, they’d be expecting you around 11am. You were always there for your drink and a little yarn about your day.

You heard the most gentle knock at your door and your eyes opened. You hadn’t even realized your closed them as you felt the air kiss your skin. You knew exactly who was behind that door. Your heart skipped when you realized it was that time again. You brought in a deep breath and released it slowly. You loved this dreamy feeling that you got, it was nearly intoxicating.

“Come in.” You replied, quietly. You didn’t want to upset this perfect ambiance by talking to loudly or out of turn. 

You heard the handle turn and footsteps on your floor. They joined you out on the balcony and watched your city with you. No words were exchanged, they knew how much you like a little quiet from time to time. They had a mind not unlike your own, very observant too. Just watched the people milling about, enjoying their own time.

“You should see this view at night, the city actually sleeps.” You spoke, softly. “My other room, you can hear something all time but there is actual silence here.”

“I’d like to see that.”

You turned on your heel and smiled kindly. Bucky was now in front of you, top of his hair tied up in a loose bun. He had on a burnt orange t-shirt which sat beautifully against his tanned skin. He returned your smile and reached out his right hand, his flesh hand, towards you.

You took it with your left hand and he led you to step over the threshold, back into your room. He extended his arm out so you could sit down on the end of your bed. He knelt down in front of you and lifted your left foot into his lap. He wiggled it to get movement into your ankle, flexing and watching for your reaction.

There was a little bit of tension in your muscles, but soon it subsided as he massaged lightly with both his metal and flesh fingers. His fingers moved up to your calf, working the same way. You shuddered slightly as he went over a tender spot.

“Sore?” He asked, running over the spot gently. 

“A little, I guess.”

“You can admit if something hurts, that doesn’t mean you aren’t getting better.”

You had to remind yourself of that sometimes. Therapy and recovery wasn’t something you could fail. It was progress you made, one step at a time. Pain or flashbacks didn’t mean you were going backwards, it just meant you needed to work a little harder to go forward.

Bucky was one of the first people you met when you got here. He had been assigned to you to help with your recovery. He was only your physical therapist, you had another emotional therapist. Bucky had spent some time here for himself, a bit before you got there. He didn’t go into details with you about what happened, but you knew it must’ve been bad for him to lose his whole arm.

When you first got here you made the mistake of trying to compare his trauma to your own. Invalidating your own cause it wasn’t “as bad” as Bucky’s. He had stopped you in your tracks and explained that our trauma isn’t something that could be measured. We have all had our own pasts and our own experiences and they were as big or as small as we believed them to be.

He had become your best friend, your safety. It started out with only morning visits from him, to do your rehabilitation exercises. It started to evolve from there, he would ask if you wanted to join him for lunch. He would ask if he could join you on one of your many strolls around the city. He’d invite you to try the dinner he was making, on account that you ate with him.

He was part of your healing process. Learning to trust others again. Not everybody was out to get you. This city taught you that as well. You can walk around the city with headphones on without the constant fear that something unjust was waiting around a corner for you.

“How has your hip been?” His voice was soft enough to rouse you from your thoughts, not snap you.

“A lot better actually, doesn’t click as much when I move.”

“I’m glad, I was starting to think I’d have to break out the oil can.”

You let out a laugh straight from the chest. You appreciated his humor, the old timey jokes he’d make. Sometimes you’d call him Grandpa and he’d give you a quiet “hey!” but couldn’t help the chuckle that it brought out of him. Bucky always thought you were funny, even when you weren’t. 

“And your back?”

You sighed, turning your head to watch your hand play with the throw blanket at the end of the bed. Out of your peripheral vision you could see Bucky’s eyes flick up to watch for your reaction.

“It still locks up when I sit up for two long.”

He smiled at you and finished working the knots out of your calf muscles. He stood back up and managed to tower over you. Not a scary tower, Bucky couldn’t be scary. You’d heard through the grapevine that he was different back in the day, that things happened. But you’d also heard that it wasn’t his fault. You knew that man and you knew how to make your own thoughts and opinions. You knew there wasn’t a hateful bone in his body.

“You want to take off your top and roll onto your front?”

He turned to face your door after he said that, respecting your privacy. You couldn’t help but chuckle, what a gentleman. You did just that, however. Tucked your shirt behind one of your pillows to wear to bed later that night, and lay down with your front pressed into your comforter. The cotton was slightly cool, a nice feeling against your skin.

You heard Bucky’s sneakers on the floor as he came around to the side of your bed. You listened and felt for his right knee come up and rest beside you on the mattress. Both his hands came down onto your back, there was a definite difference between the metal and skin. His fingers kneaded the sore spots on your back, seeming to make them melt away in an instant. You closed your eyes and rested your head against your folded arms.

You couldn’t help but let out a sigh as you felt him work out the tension, the pain, the past. Your body hadn’t been the same after that day. Things didn’t work like they used to, you couldn’t just go back to normal. Bucky was making things easier, he was helping things go back to normal

He brought one hand up to each of your shoulder blades. His thumbs went right in and under, you could hear the knots coming undone it was that intense. Your eyes rolled back into your head, and that is when it happened. A moan slipped right out of your lips and your back even arched a little. You immediately felt your cheeks flame. You couldn’t do anything, it happened again.

Bucky was pushing the spots on purpose. He has been doing your therapy for a good amount of time, he knew your body. His right hand came down your spine and his thumb pushed on one of your vertebrae. There was a quiet click and you made that same noise. You had now caught on that he was doing this on purpose. It felt unbelievably good, a goodness that only this city could provide. This city and the man that came with it.

He ran his hands up the side of your body, making you shiver. You stretched your arms out in front of you and pointed your legs out as straight as you could. He ran his hands up your arms and all the way back down to your legs. The stretch felt good, releasing all that pent up stress you didn’t realize you carried. Bucky taught you about being conscious of your body. Unclench your jaw, straighten your back, unfurrow your brow. You carry so much stress that harms your body without even knowing it.

You brought your arms down and pushed yourself up, flipping gently onto your back. Bucky’s breathing got shallow, he was already finishing the process of kicking his sneakers off and he got the rest of himself onto the bed. You could hear the sound of the buskers outside, starting their morning shows. The sound of violins drifted into the room, providing the perfect soundtrack.

Bucky brought himself down, lying on his chest with half his body on you and half on the bed. He brought his metal hand up to massage your right breast, his lips attaching to the left. You arched your back and let out a deep breath. You fingers slowly carded into his hair, your fingers massaging his scalp. 

His lips wrapping gently around your nipple as his tongue flicked at it, making goosebumps rise on your skin. You could hear the sounds below your floor, the kitchen was rumbling with breakfasts being made. If everything went as it normally did, you and Bucky had about another 20 minutes of alone time.

He kept his lips on your chest, but brought his metal hand down to your shorts. His fingers undid the tie on the front, loose enough for him slip his hand down. The feeling of the metal against your sensitive skin drove you just about wild. You let out a quiet moan, the sound being intertwined with the sounds outside your window. The bird chips seemed to whisk it away before you could even hear it yourself.

Two of his fingers swirled around your clit, rubbing very gently. It was enough that it wasn’t teasing, but not so much that you felt rushed. His fingers went slightly lower to your opening to collect some wetness and came back up to continue the motions. Your eyes fluttered shut and you gently pulled at Bucky’s hair. He always told you that you could pull harder but you never wanted to. You just wanted to feel him, to remind yourself he was real.

He sucked harder at your nipple, alternating this with the motions below your waistline. He worked his fingers against you, making your breathing pick up and your muscles start to tense. You thought about this, unclenching your toes and your legs. You could hear the coffee maker in the kitchen below, this was one of the last things they did in their breakfast routine. You didn’t have long.

You bucked your hips up against his hand. He moved it down and almost teased you with his thick fingers. He slowly slid them both into you, right to the knuckle. You let out a long breath, which alternated to a moan at the end. You slid your hands down his back and grabbed at his t-shirt. He moved those fingers slowly, the feeling of them against your walls was making your heart pick up.

His teeth gently grazed against your nipple, careful not to hurt you. He just wanted to test your sensitivity. Your body shuddered at the feeling, not in a bad way. You arched your back as you longed for his teeth to be back on you. He chuckled quietly and gave you what you were after. Who was he to deny you?

His fingers worked against your front wall, you could feel your wetness drip down his metal digits. He sped up, matching it with the speed that he flicked at your nipple. Your breathing was becoming more erratic, and you couldn’t help your nails scraping at Bucky’s back. You heard him let out a moan against you which made you arch off the mattress.

“I am so close.” You whined, rolling your hips onto his fingers.

“You can come whenever you want, you’ve earned it.”

You let out a gentle moan, clenching around his fingers and wrapping your arms around him. He worked you through your orgasm, slowly rubbing your clit with his thumb. You let your chest rise and fall, regaining a steady heart rate as you came back down to earth.

You could hear the trays rattling in the hallway, breakfast was moments away. Bucky cleaned his fingers with his tongue, keeping eye contact with you whilst doing so. He went behind the pillows and found your shirt, passing it to you and helping you lift it over your head. He ducked his head down and pressed a kiss to your lips, moaning at the feeling.

He took your hand and led you out to the little table on your balcony, pulling your chair out for you and leaning against the railing. There was a knock at your door and after your say so, you breakfast tray came through the door along with a smiling woman.

She placed the meal in front of you, along with your coffee and orange juice. Your eyes practically turned to hearts at the sight before you. You patted the seat next you, silenced by the mouthful of food. Bucky grinned and sat beside you, his arm on the back of your chair as you both watched the city.

“Have you ever seen something so beautiful?” You asked softly, not wanting to disrupt the moment.

You eyes were so fixated on the view in front of you that you didn’t realize the eyes on you.

“Yes, I think I have.”


End file.
